Posts Tagged ‘help’

Really sweet story I wanted to share with you. My son Sawyer is 11 years old. When I describe him I use words like smart, athletic, kind, and empathetic. I honestly think he got the best parts of his Dad and me. And of all four of my kids, I worry the most about him. That surprises people sometimes when I share that. But he’s my tender one. He carries the most. And he worries the most about his brother Cooper who is autistic. The other day, during a game,…

I have four kids. My older two are 13 and 11. Brothers. Cooper is 13. He loves trains and DVD cases and bright colored paper. He is part fish and would live in the water if I let him. He does not like sports. Not one bit. But he adores sitting in the sun with a queen sized comforter and a pillow. My 11 year old lives for a party. He plays hockey and baseball and anything competitive. He adores babies and puppies and asking me for Roblox. Talks and…

This morning I walked downstairs to my sweet boy sitting on the couch, surrounded by his treasures. He waved. It was quick though. He was very busy watching his shows. He takes his show watching very serious. Especially on early mornings. ‘Cooper, it’s mom’s birthday today!’ I said. Now I don’t know what I expected. Not words of course. But a cheer. A smile. A gasp. But nothing. He looked back down. It stung. Like a tiny bee sting or a poke in the side. But the pain is duller…

I committed a pretty big social media mistake once. Well, way more than once since then, but I remember this one specifically because it was my first. It was well over 6 years ago, but I still shake my head at how tone deaf I was. I posted a quote on Instagram to my hundred followers that said something like, ‘I should get a little credit for doing this all unmedicated.’ I thought it was funny, I guess. My followers did not. They lashed out. At first I couldn’t understand…

It’s 64 degrees out today. In April. In Minnesota. The pool is set at 80 degrees. We opened it this weekend. Our second son Sawyer has had multiple friends over to play. They jump. They shoot hoops. They talk baseball and hockey and Fortnite and girls. Our third son Harbor doesn’t leave their side. Not even for a second. He is a shadow to these older boys. I listen. And read. And smile. And referee. And judge jumps. And Cooper, my oldest, he is right there with them. He is…